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Authors: Evelyn Anthony

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BOOK: The Heiress
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‘I believe so.' For a moment the smile faded. ‘It's only too easy to lose one another here.'

It was a poor excuse, made to this strange young man, and she could see by his eyes that it did not deceive him for a moment. Charles was indeed at Versailles; he had been there for the past three months. She had followed him in despair, unable to obey and stay behind at Charantaise and was now enduring the agony of his indifference and the positive proof that he was being unfaithful to her. She flushed and turned away from the penetrating eyes of the man beside her.

‘I expect he will come here to find me,' she said. ‘Everyone will go to the supper-room after the King's reception.'

‘Is your husband in the King's household, Madame?' he asked.

‘He has an appointment in the War Office,' Anne answered. The office was granted Charles soon after their marriage; she had not understood its significance at the time, supposing his parents had secured it for him; only now, when she knew the means by which such posts were filled, did she realize that Charles's mistress had obtained it for him in order to keep him at Versailles. Once only she had seen Louise de Vitale; here in the Salon d'Appollon, standing by the window with her hand on Charles's arm, laughing up into his face. And Anne had known who she was and what they were to each other even before a malicious whisper from her neighbour told her. The Baroness de Vitale, the friend of the Dubarry. And her lover who had just married a rich plain little heiress who was buried in the country.… Anne had not approached them. Later that night he came to visit her, for her wealth and position had secured her a tiny suite of two rooms. Neither of them had referred to the Baroness. Thinking of it all again, she felt as if her heart would burst with pain. With an effort she turned to the Irishman.

‘Are you waiting to see the King?' she asked.

He smiled and shrugged; it made him look nearly as young as his age.

‘Madame, I've been travelling for weeks and I've spent my last louis in the hope of doing that. I want a commission in the Army. I shall just have to wait until he speaks to me, that's all.'

‘But you could wait for weeks, months, perhaps for ever, and he might never notice you! Monsieur O'Neil, you can't just
wait
at Versailles!'

‘I know that.' Again the engaging smile flashed at her. ‘I've laid out a little money to help catch His Majesty's attention. There's a gentleman here who's a member of the King's bedchamber. He's promised to call the King's attention to me.'

‘Oh, I see.' Anne had been at Court long enough to know exactly how much that promise was worth. Whoever had taken the Captain's bribe was most likely an upper servant who would pocket the bribe and forget who had given it within five minutes. Duping strangers to the Court in this way was common practice among the household; many a hard-pressed nobleman had played the same trick upon a newcomer.

‘You're a professional soldier, then?' she said.

‘Thank you for that, Madame,' the O'Neil said gently. ‘I'm a common mercenary with a mind to settle in French service. I've neither land nor money in my own country—indeed, they'd hang me if I ever showed my face there. I'm for sale, my dear lady, and my only trouble is to find a buyer!'

‘Let me help you,' Anne said suddenly. To her surprise the handsome face flushed.

‘No, thank you, Madame. I appreciate it, but I've never cared for favours from women. It should be the other way round.'

‘Don't be angry,' she said. ‘I didn't mean any hurt to your pride. But I know this place; I must tell you you'll never have a word from the King and you've just dropped your money into a rascal's pocket. I'd like to help you if I can, and I can't promise anything. But if the King should speak to me at any time, and you're near, I'll present you to him. That's all.'

Francis looked down at her. He had met a great many women in his travels, women of all classes and conditions, and until that moment his only experience of the well-born was one of selfishness, arrogance and lack of morals. He had never received a kindness at the hands of any of them. Now something insisted that this woman was not to be compared with the others. She was not inviting an amorous adventure or seeking to put him under an obligation for a sinister purpose. One Bohemian Countess had used her influence to secure him a lieutenancy once, and then asked him to murder one of her husband's political enemies. Francis had little faith in the charity of the great of either sex.

‘Please forgive me,' he said. ‘I should be everlastingly in your debt if you could speak a word for me. Indeed, my dear Madame, I can't afford to wait for more than a week or two.'

‘Let us hope the opportunity comes then,' Anne answered. ‘But don't hope that it will be tonight. When the King is late he usually hurries through the Salon.'

A few minutes after she had spoken the doors opened and the King was announced, preceded by his gentlemen ushers, the Constable of France and a train of gentlemen in waiting.

Louis passed through the double line into which the crowd had divided itself, pausing to speak to less than half a dozen, and his words to them were brief. He looked tired and irritable and he passed within a foot of Anne and the O'Neil without glancing at either of them.

‘Bah!' exclaimed a man on Anne's left. ‘Three hours waiting here, all this morning in the ante-chamber, and not even a flicker of his eye towards me! What a misery life is!'

‘It is indeed,' she agreed. ‘Is your need so pressing then?'

‘Pressing?' The young man stared at her in astonishment. His eyebrows were outlined in black like a woman's and he wore a huge diamond in each ear. ‘My dear Madame, what village have you come from? I am the Comte de Tallieu.… I have no need of anything except that His Majesty should know that I am here!' He gave her a look of contempt and turned his back on her.

‘You may be the Comte de Tallieu, sir,' a quiet voice said in his ear, ‘but you have the manners of a dog and dogs get kicked when they misbehave. Apologize to this lady before I show you what I mean!'

The Comte swung round with a gasp; it was so feminine that Anne almost laughed. His painted eyes narrowed as he met the furious glare of the O'Neil. ‘Whoever you are, and obviously'—he stared contemptuously at the Captain from his plain buckled shoes to his unpowdered head—‘obviously you're
no one
, you should be careful who you offend with your taproom manners, Monsieur. A de Tallieu does not fight with inferiors or I should teach you a very unpleasant lesson!' Before Francis could reply he had vanished into the crowd.

‘The cowardly little coxcomb! He's run off!'

‘Yes,' Anne smiled, ‘and just as well. If he's the Comte de Tallieu then he's a very important person; you mustn't make enemies here. But thank you for defending me.…'

‘It wasn't much of a defence; I got no apology from him,' he answered. ‘But I daresay I'll see him again. Madame, I see the supper-room is opening. May I escort you?'

‘With pleasure,' Anne answered.

He made her a little bow and offered his arm. They went into the supper-room together, and he guided Anne quickly to a window-seat.

‘Wait there, Madame, I shan't be long.'

The trestle table stretched the length of the wall, covered with an embroidered cloth, and servants in the Royal livery served from behind it; Francis had never seen such a quantity of food. Every kind of fowl was displayed, whole sides of meat, enormous pastry dishes filled with fish and savouries, ices and cream sweets in fantastic shapes, and mountains of sweetmeats and patisseries, for which the Royal kitchens were famous. Unlimited wines and sweet cordials were being served in the Salon d'Abondance. He came back to Anne with enough food for them both, and sat beside her on the window-seat.

‘I congratulate you,' she said. ‘I haven't eaten so quickly here for the past month.'

‘I have sharp elbows,' he laughed. ‘And I'm hungry.'

‘Where are you staying?' she asked him.

‘God knows,' he answered. ‘Anywhere I can find a bed. I have a servant with me; he's a resourceful fellow; I've no doubt he'll have reserved a place for me. You live here, Madame?'

‘I have two rooms,' she admitted. ‘It's a great honour; very few people are given apartments.'

‘You must be as important as the Comte de Tallieu,' he said gently.

‘No,' Anne shook her head. ‘Not important, Captain O'Neil. Just rich. Sometimes I wish I weren't.'

‘Wealth has never been one of my burdens,' he smiled down at her. ‘Why does it weigh so heavily upon you? Or is that an impudent question? Please forgive me if it is;'

‘It's not impudent at all.' He was extraordinarily easy to talk to. It was a very long time since there had been anyone in whom she could confide. Four whole months, since the day she married Charles.

‘I was married for my money, you see. I haven't become accustomed to it yet.'

‘Not only for that, surely. You underestimate yourself.'

‘On the contrary. I was aware of it from the beginning; I was stupid enough to imagine that my husband's feelings towards me might change.'

‘I'm not sure I wish to meet him, then,' Francis said. ‘It's bad enough that he should leave you here alone to fend for yourself. I didn't care for that as a start. Why did you marry him?'

‘Because I loved him,' she answered. ‘This is a very odd conversation, Captain O'Neil, I don't know what you must think of me for speaking to you of such things.… I'm afraid it's a long time since anyone has been so nice to me and taken trouble to look after me. It's made me a little foolish, I suppose. Please excuse me.'

‘I'm only a stranger here, Madame,' he said quietly. ‘A poor beggar from the Palatinate Army, looking for a post. You've done me a great honour in supping with me, and talking to me as you have. Don't spoil it for me now.'

His eyes seemed a darker blue, and suddenly she looked away from him and flushed.

‘How selfish and petty this must seem to you, when you have real troubles,' she said. ‘My story is only too common, and I brought it on myself. I came to Versailles in defiance of my husband. He didn't wish me to follow him; he can't be blamed for neglecting me as a result.'

‘Allow me to blame him if I wish,' he answered. ‘Where is your home, Madame?'

‘Charantaise, near Blois,' Anne said. ‘Do you know it?'

‘No,' Francis shook his head. ‘But I've heard of it. It's one of the greatest châteaux in France. Why don't you go back there, and let Monsieur Macdonald go to the devil!'

‘Because I am his wife,' she said. ‘And I am not beaten yet. I hate this place, and everyone in it. Look at them, pushing and shouting like a herd of animals; there's no dignity or grace in Versailles; it's like a zoo. But Charles is here and I won't leave him. Do you despise me, Captain? I haven't much feminine modesty, forcing myself upon a man who doesn't want me.'

‘I only despise the man fool enough not to appreciate you,' he answered. ‘If I do come face to face with him I shall probably knock the head off his shoulders.'

‘No, you won't,' Anne said slowly. ‘My husband is no Court fop; if you so much as looked awry at him he'd kill you.'

‘At least he's a man, then,' the O'Neil said. ‘That's one comfort. How long do you intend to stay here?'

‘Until he agrees to come back to Charantaise with me,' she said quietly. ‘I have a house in Paris. I shall open it up; I can't bear living in these dreadful cramped rooms at Versailles. I shall open my house and entertain. Perhaps if I can offer him some amusement he'll come there. I hope that you will too.'

‘If I have my commission,' he smiled. ‘All the more reason for wanting it now. Will you walk out in the gardens with me for a while? This room is like an oven and the noise is worse than a battle.'

‘I think not,' Anne refused. ‘I'm tired today; there was a play last night which the King attended and it went on till two in the morning. One has to be up for the levee at eight and the public Mass at ten. Would you walk with me to my apartments? It's far, I'm afraid.'

‘It would give me more pleasure than anything else,' he said. ‘And the further the better. I've no wish to lose sight of you so soon. Dare I ask you to meet me tomorrow?'

They were walking down the long corridors, out through the Galerie des Glaces, where the wall of mirrors threw their own reflections back at them; down longer passages still, where a few lackeys dozed at their posts, and up the north staircase leading to the upper rooms.

Here Anne paused, while he waited for her answer. It was the classic situation, repeated over and over again with a thousand variations in society, in books and on the stage: the neglected wife and the enterprising stranger, the first meeting, the second already assuming the guise of an assignation. And the man was a foreigner, an Irish mercenary officer without a position or a sou to his name. She could imagine how her friends would exclaim at her folly and her husband Charles would jeer, and laugh about it with his mistress.

As if he read her thoughts, Francis said quickly: ‘Don't misunderstand me. I ask nothing of you, Madame Macdonald, but your company. I am not seeking favours, money or introductions. I came here without the hope of any of them and I shall probably leave as I came. Will you spend some part of tomorrow with me?'

‘Yes,' she said. ‘There's a hunt tomorrow morning at midday. Bring your horse and servant and we'll ride together. Good night, Captain.'

She gave him her hand and he bowed very low and kissed it.

‘Good night, Madame.' He turned away and walked very quickly down the corridor. At the foot of the steps of the Cour des Marbres his servant Boehmer sprang up and called him.

BOOK: The Heiress
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